Of Raven and Ram's Horn
by Scorpio71
Summary: Forces long unseen or felt begin to stir in response to a Prophecy set down by the Norns…and the fate of one young child is forever changed.
1. Prologue

TITLE: Of Raven and Ram's Horn

AUTHOR: Scorpio

FANDOMS: Harry Potter, Hercules/Xena

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Harry Potter series of books, the television shows Hercules:tLJ or Xena:WP, nor do I own any of the myths about the Gods of Olympus or the Tuatha Dé Danann. This is a work of love, not profit.

SUMMARY: Forces long unseen or felt begin to stir in response to a Prophecy set down by the Norns…and the fate of one young child is forever changed.

* * *

**Of Raven and Ram's Horn**

_Prologue_

Ares stood on the western battlements of his Citadel and watched the sun slowly sink down below the range of mountains that guarded his border. He brooded silently as he watched the end of another empty day in the midst of a series of millions of empty days.

A pinpoint of black moved against the backdrop of swirling magentas and golds. Without concern or curiosity, Ares' haunted dark eyes followed that moving slash of darkness as it shifted in the air currents and grew closer. Finally identifying it as a raven, the bird's feathers sparkled like tiny rainbows in the waning light.

Lifting one heavily muscled arm aloft, the raven wheeled in the air as it turned sharply on a wingtip and then coasted down to perch upon his curled fist. Pulling his fist with the raven perched on it closer to his body, Ares studied it with only the mildest curiosity.

"Well, little one." His smoky seductive voice was as dark as his eyes, "what brings you to my Citadel?"

The raven called out a single sharp note, but while his ears heard "cawww", his mind heard "The Morrigan".

Ares' eyes left the raven and drifted off to gaze toward the north and the lands that the goddess Morrigan once ruled before the Twilight had ripped the various Pantheons' ties with the mortal realm asunder. Sighing softly, Ares tilted his head to regard the raven once more.

"Well, little messenger, what does your mistress wish of me?"

Once again his ears heard the sounds of a simple raven "cawww caawwww", but his godly mind heard the words, "blood and water, bound in silver".

It was a simple enough spell and one he had used often to communicate with his own family that was trapped in Olympus. A silver bowl filled with water for scrying, a drop of godly blood to provide enough power to breach the barriers between the mortal and godly realms and a token of the being you wish to contact. He had tokens for nearly all the Olympians and the Asphodelians. Rarely did he communicate with those from other Pantheons.

Finally he nodded. "Very well, little messenger. We can contact your mistress from my study."

The raven merely tilted its head and was content to ride on Ares' fist. He wasn't surprised. Exhaustion radiated from the bird. It was a long journey from Ireland and an even longer one from the Land of Forever Young where Morrigan was living.

Turning on his heel, Ares strode across the battlements and over to a bit of wall that was really a door covered in an illusion. He went through the door without hesitation and strode through the stone corridors and down several stairs until he came to a heavy oak door bound in iron. It swung open at his approach and he walked through it.

His study was a large room with a huge fireplace on one side with two chairs and a small table facing it. On the other side was a heavy oak desk with floor to ceiling cabinets behind it. The remaining walls were lined with bookshelves and pigeonholes. A few paintings and tapestries interspersed with sharp weapons decorated the walls.

The overall atmosphere was one of wealth and strength. It was dark and warm and masculine. It was also obvious that this was a room that was used for its intended purpose; its master did not use it as a showroom.

Ares didn't hesitate to walk over to his desk. A quick glance at the papers and books strewn over its surface had them leap up into the air, shuffle themselves into some sort of order and then float across the room to settle delicately on top of a nearby bookshelf.

His work surface clear, Ares opened one of the glass fronted cabinet doors and gazed among his possessions. Directly in front was a beautifully styled and delicately decorated silver bowl. It had been crafted thousands of years ago by his brother Hephaestus; a priceless artifact of beauty and function. Now, it was his only link to his family trapped upon Olympus by the Twilight.

Behind the bowl were several dozen tokens, each linked to a different godly being. Each token was carefully sheltered and protected in individual boxes and cases. A long slim box contained a wing feather from his son Cupid and another smaller slim box contained a wing feather from his grandson Bliss. Another small box held a blonde lock of hair bound in pink ribbon that he had shorn from Aphrodite's fancy hairdo one night.

Behind those three there were more tokens. Some were weapons, or bits of clothing, or an object, or a lock of hair. Each was a priceless treasure that Ares would gleefully commit mass genocide to protect.

Ares took out the silver bowl and turned to set it in the center of his desk.

"I hope you have a token from your mistress little messenger, for I have none."

"cawww" was the reply even as his mind heard "a feather".

"Very well."

Ares waved a hand over the bowl and it dutifully filled with water. The raven hopped from his fist down to the desk and tilted its head to the side watching. As soon as the water level reached its zenith, the bird twisted its head back and pulled a feather loose that had been tucked in amongst its own. Despite also being a rainbow kissed raven feather, Ares could instantly tell that this one was different. It radiated power on a godly level and must have come from Morrigan's own raven form.

Ares pulled a small sharp dagger from the air and nodded to the raven. Instantly complying, the bird twisted its head back around and neatly dropped the godly feather into the very center of the bowl. It floated lazily for a brief moment and then sunk down to rest upon the silver bottom.

Poking a fingertip with his dagger, Ares reached out and let one, two, three drops of bright red blood drop into the bowl over the feather. The blood and water swirled around and around clockwise until it was thoroughly mixed. Then the liquid pulsed twice with glowing power before it settled down into a pale glow with the image of Morrigan shining from its surface.

"Hail Ares," Morrigan's sultry voice echoed through the room, "Lost Son of Olympus."

Ares grimaced in distaste at that title. Thousands of years ago, just before the Twilight, he'd been involved in a huge dispute that ended with the death of Zeus. Hera had provided a false prophecy that had led Zeus to believe that his death would come at the hands of Ares granddaughter. Knowing the prophecy false, he'd sided with his daughter Xena and tried to protect his unborn granddaughter Livia. It was Hercules himself that had murdered their father. Yet, for his participation, Athena had stripped him of his godhood and bade him to live as a mortal for twenty years before ascending to Olympus again.

Thankfully, he'd still had family members loyal to him and his cause for they had helped him to reach the last remaining bit of ambrosia stored in the mortal world. That had made him an immortal and a god again, but without his sword he was a god without a sphere of influence. He merely had to wait for his ban from Olympus to be over and then he could reclaim his sword and title God of War. However, that was not to be as the Twilight hit long before his banishment was over and the portals between the godly realms and the mortal world were closed forever.

"Hail Morrigan," Ares replied in dark tones, "Danann Goddess of War and Battle."

There was a long pause during which Ares and Morrigan gazed at each other through the scrying portal. Finally Morrigan nodded and then sighed sadly.

"I would ask a boon of thee, Olympian."

"Oh?"

One of Ares' eyebrows went up in mild surprise. He and Morrigan had never been best of friends, confidants, or allies. Their past relationship could best be described as guarded, mutual respect for the other's power and skill. That was all.

"As you know well, none of the Tuatha Dé Danann were upon the mortal realm when the Twilight hit. All of us are trapped beyond the reach of those who were once our beloved followers."

Ares nodded. He had once, after the Twilight first hit, conceived the idea that all those godly beings that were trapped in the mortal realm should come together and form their own Pantheon in an effort to rule and guide the mortals, but that was impossible. There simply wasn't enough gods trapped outside of the godly realms. Olympus had the most of all; himself, Apollo, and Pan. There was also the Asphodelian Hecate who would have gladly helped.

Instead, they had followed Apollo's plan of carefully separating the normal mortals from those that had been touched by magic and the gods. It had been sadly necessary. With the loss of the gods, the mortals had been hysterical with grief and fear and they turned on those that were different than them.

It had taken the four divine beings centuries to complete their work. They had started in Greece and then moved onto Rome. From there they had moved through the lands that the Romans had conquered. Then they had moved east. And everywhere they went, they set wards and protections around hidden vales, cave systems, and tracts of forest. Wards that would protect magical and semi-divine humans and creatures from their completely normal and muggle counterparts.

"Recently, a child was born of a mortal daughter of mine. She hailed from a lost ancient bloodline of priestesses that have sworn themselves unto my cause. This daughter was the first in many generations to have that power blossom within her. She returned to the world of magic and power only to wed her renewed bloodline with that of another ancient bloodline, one of warriors also in my service."

Ares barely restrained from rolling his eyes. "I'm sure this is fascinating and I am happy for you…but what does this have to do with me?"

A look of dark anger flitted across Morrigan's face and Ares could see her power rolling around her in agitation.

"It's the child of my priestess and warrior. He has been orphaned by the madman that wished to challenge you, Ares of Olympus."

Ares smirked darkly.

Tom Riddle, who called himself Lord Voldemort, was the last scion of an ancient line that had destroyed itself with the ignorance and inherited insanity of its own members. Riddle had foolishly delved into the forbidden dark arts and somehow found a way to wrest himself from the mortal coil without dying. Either not knowing or not caring what he was doing, he'd corrupted an already foul ritual and cleaved his own shaky sanity apart with his cursed existence; an offence to all true immortals.

Several years later, after going far further into the dark then is ever advised, Riddle had come upon the ancient legends of Ares' own existence. He believed that if he bested Ares in combat that he would somehow become a god and that he could rule the world. When Riddle had managed to make his way partway across the Hidden Mountains, Ares had gone to confront the upstart only to find himself being challenged. He hadn't laughed that hard in centuries and had simply banished the little wizard back to England and thought of him no more.

"Ahhh…Riddle. What is that idiot up to now?"

Morrigan grit her teeth.

"After you banished him from your Citadel and returned him to England, the madman began a campaign to gather followers and demanded they worship him unto a god."

"Oh?" Ares' voice was dark with irritation. "I thought I told him he would never be a god and to put aside such…desires."

"Another sin upon his head to disobey the direct commands of a god, then. He called his priests Death Eaters and made war upon the magical beings of Britannia. My warrior and priestess were members of a militant coven that opposed that madman and his supposed rule." A flicker of sadness and grief washed over her features. "It was all for naught as he had all but won."

Ares narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Is that so? Maybe I should visit the Isle…it's been nearly a thousand years since my last stay."

Morrigan shook her head.

"Nay. The beast has been rendered noncorporeal and his armies scattered."

"How did that come about?"

"The child. The son of my priestess and warrior. His spirit was touched by the Norns 'ere his birth. When the madman turned his death magics on the babe, the spell was flung back into the beast's face and dissolved his physical body to ash."

Ares snorted, a dark amusement momentarily dancing in his eyes.

"Is it over then?"

"Nay. The madman shall eventually regain that which he lost and his anger shall fall upon the child without mercy or remorse. The Norns have decreed that it shall be this child who shall either fall to the pits or rid the world of the madman who would usurp your throne, Ares. This child, descendant of my children, shall be the one to gather the Deathly Hallows and defend your name and rule."

Ares clenched his jaws as he considered all this. He was regretting being so merciful when Riddle first confronted him. Thousands of years ago, he would have blasted the fool back to his component parts and been done with it. But that had been at the height of his power and with the Sword of War in his hands.

He had, since the last magical enclave had been blessed with his wards, lived separately from the world in a haze of apathetic brooding or blackest depression due to grief from the losses suffered by the Twilight. Riddle's ridiculous statement of impending godhood had been a source of dark mirth in an otherwise endless existence of torment and woe. Sparing his life had been a merciful boon granted in thanks for that brief bout of humor.

Ares would know better than to be so generous in the future.

"And the boon you would ask of me, Morrigan?"

"The child. Take him to your Citadel, Ares. Raise him to be a warrior, strong and true. Teach him that which he needs to know in order to fulfill his destiny."

"Does the child not have those to raise and tutor him?"

A pained look flickered over Morrigan's face for a brief instant.

"The leader that his parents followed has taken the orphaned babe to the sister of my priestess. She has not the power nor the temperament to be a priestess. In fact, she has disowned her own sister and turned from my teachings completely. She has had the child in her care for a fortnight and has heaped nothing but scorn and anger on the babe. In her care, the child would be hard pressed to survive, let alone fulfill his destiny."

Ares considered her words. If he left the child where he was, then it was most likely that the destruction of Riddle would fall to him. And after having his mercy spit back at him that was a great temptation. However, if he raised this child and taught him as Morrigan wished, then he would be able to fulfill his destiny. Which included becoming the true master of the Deathly Hallows.

Ares knew of these artifacts for they were of godly origin. The Eldar Wand was made from an eldar tree bathed in the Morrigan's own blood and held one of her raven feathers as its core. The Cloak of Invisibility was woven from the hair of the goddess Brigid and dyed with the blood of the god Ogma. Then there was the Resurrection Stone which was taken directly from the crown of the god Cernunnos. Each of these artifacts was a power in its own right, but together they would grant their master immortality.

Immortality. True immortality, not the false immortality that the madman Riddle had wrested with dark magic.

Could this child be someone that he could spend the endless eternity with?

"I shall take the child and make him my apprentice."

Morrigan smiled.

"Until the day he masters all three Hallows. On that day, I shall take him as my Consort."

Her smiled faded into one of suspicion.

"Why?"

Dark anger and pain filled his eyes and he snarled, "You would ask that? You who are surrounded by family and loved ones? I am alone!"

And to his horror Morrigan's features softened into one of deep sympathy.

"Do not pity me Raven! Apollo, Hecate, and Pan share this fate. Save your pity for Pan if any one of us. His existence is a torment to him since the destruction of the satyrs and nymphs."

And it was true. Apollo spent much of his time simply keeping the mad god from visiting destruction upon humans as he blamed them for the loss of his chosen people. Hecate had disappeared into the Americas centuries ago and had yet to reemerge. He was, utterly, alone.

"Granting this child the Hallows may be what is needed for him to destroy the madman Riddle, but he won't thank you for it. Eternity alone watching the mortals die one by one is a…terrible fate. It matters not if he comes to love me or hate me, my continued presence in his life throughout the endless millennia will become his most cherished possession."

After a long moment, Morrigan bowed her head in silent agreement.

"It shall be as you say then, Ares of Olympus. When the last Hallow recognizes him as its true master he shall be blessed as a son of Tuatha Dé Danann and be wed to you as your Concert for eternity."

Ares' expression settled into one of contentment and mild curiosity.

"My future Consort, where is he?"

"His name is Harry James Potter and he is currently in his aunt's home in Surrey England. They live in a village called Little Whining and are at #4 Privet Drive."

"I will retrieve him at midnight."


	2. The Invitation

**The Invitation**

_Chapter One_

* * *

Ares was in the sun drenched courtyard to the rear of the main wing of his Citadel swinging a sword and practicing battle magics against several enchanted suits of armor when Harry burst through the open doorway waving a bit of parchment in the air. A speckled barn owl followed behind the child on soft wings and hooted in exhausted amusement.

"It came! It came! Ares! It finally came!"

Ares waved a hand through the air and the armor he was fighting stepped back, saluted him, and then marched over to stand guard against the far wall with its fellows. Then he turned and watched with a small smile as the dark haired child danced with glee around his legs.

Harry practically shoved the parchment in his hands and then did another spin before dancing a small jig. Ares laughed and ruffled the boy's untamable hair.

"Alright already. You get that poor owl a perch and refreshment as I read over the invitation."

He watched with amusement and pride as the child pulled out a thick metal and crystal wand. He transfigured a stone into a bowl and filled it with water and set it on one of the wooden posts that Ares used for sword training. Then Harry transfigured a bit of the post itself into a nice solid perch. The owl swooped down and landed on the perch with a soft grateful hoot even as Harry turned and pointed his wand towards the inner rooms of the Citadel and summoned a live mouse.

Turning his attention away from child and post owl, Ares turned the parchment envelope over in his hands. Harry had already opened and read it, but that was okay. It was his after all.

_To Mr. Harry James Potter_

_Citadel of Ares_

_Consort's Chambers_

_The Hidden Mountains, Greece_

He wondered idly if anyone had taken note of the address on the envelope. It had to have been addressed by an enchanted quill as very few mortal beings knew of Ares' existence beyond myth and legend.

The invitation itself was fairly short and annoyingly vague. It was a sort of arrogance that was as offensive as it was amusing. Truthfully there was nothing about the invitation that would convince Ares that Hogwarts was the best place for his apprentice and future Consort. It was only the insistence of Morrigan herself that Harry needed to be trained at that castle that allowed Ares to agree to the child being schooled there.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Harry James Potter, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress _

The supply list was just as minimal.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

_First-year students will require: _

_1. Three sets of plain work robes __(black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat __(black)__ for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves __(dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak __(black, with silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

COURSE BOOKS

_All students should have a copy of each of the following: _

_The Standard Book of Spells__(Grade 1)__ by Miranda Goshawk _

_A History of Magic__ by Bathilda Bagshot _

_Magical Theory__ by Adalbert Waffling _

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration__ by Emeric Switch _

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi__ by Phyllida Spore _

_Magical Drafts and Potions__ by Arsenius Jigger _

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them__ by Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection__ by Quentin Trimble _

OTHER EQUIPMENT

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron __(pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad. _

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

_Yours sincerely, _

_Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus_

_Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions_

There was no way that Ares would send Harry into the stronghold of the enemy with so little in the way of supplies. And Albus Dumbledore; Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, was Harry's enemy in that the old wizard wished to make Harry into a tool and weapon that he alone could weld.

More fool him. Harry Potter belonged to Ares and Morrigan.

"Well?"

Ares tilted his head to look down into brilliant green eyes sparkling with magic and excitement.

"Do you wish this? To become a student of Hogwarts? I know that Morrigan has advised this, but is it what you truly wish? I'll defend your choice to her if you choose to stay in the Citadel or pick a different school."

Harry's excitement didn't dim so much as it softened to something warmer.

"I do. I must. Thank you for offering, but…" He shrugged. "I'm ready for this."

Ares bit back a sigh and nodded.

"Very well. Write out your acceptance letter for me to review."

The post owl seemed to slump tiredly even as it hooted softly. Ares smirked at it.

"Rest here tonight. In the morning I'll bring us to England myself. You can take Harry's letter from there."

The owl hooted in gratitude even as Harry let out a whoop of excitement and spun around to dash back into the Citadel. "Thank you Ares!" carried back out to him in joyous tones.

* * *

Ares stood hidden in the shadows and watched as the ancient baccae Andros helped Harry to get dressed for his first foray into British Wizarding Society. Andros was a three hundred year old baccae, or vampire as the British called them, whose bloodline could be traced back to a priest of Dionysus. His ancestor had pledged himself to Ares after the Twilight had stolen across the land.

Andros had been a huge help when Ares had brought Harry into the Citadel. Harry was destined to either die at Riddle's hand or to ascend to immortality and become Ares' Consort. It was due to that fact that Ares didn't wish to take on a parental role with Harry. It wasn't fair to ask the child to someday bed the man he saw as a father, so Andros had stepped into that role without hesitation or regret.

Now he watched as Andros dressed Harry in a pair of black woolen tights and a black linen blouse with full sleeves that laced up the front. The neckline was left open to show the mithral torque in the shape of a Celtic knot that rested about his neck. The Resurrection Stone of Cernunnos sat squarely in the middle of the torque.

Over that, Harry pulled on a pair of heavy black boots made of Hydra scale. They were tall and came up over his knees to mid-thigh. Next came the padded leather jerkin that was trimmed in gold along the bottom and at the neck and arm holes. Twin bracers were buckled onto each of Harry's forearms. The one on the right acted as a wand holster for his metal and crystal wand. The one on the left acted as a holster for a dagger made by Hephaestus.

Last of all, Ares knew, would be a black woolen cloak that was lined with silk the color of spilled blood. The cloak had once belonged to Strife the God of Mischief and it was enchanted with many godly protections.

It would seem odd to most mortals to take such a young child and dress him in armor and press weapons into his keeping, but Ares knew that this was Harry's destiny. Harry Potter was the Champion of Morrigan and the future Consort of Ares. He had one powerful wizard that wished to destroy him and another powerful wizard that wished to control him. As far as Ares was concerned, no amount of armor or weapons was too great. Especially as he would be leaving the protections of the Citadel soon.

Andros lifted up the cloak and Ares stepped out of the shadows.

"Wait."

The ancient baccae and the young boy looked over at him. Harry beamed a smile even as Andros bowed his head acknowledging his god and master.

"A gift came last night from my brother Hephaestus. Archimedes brought it."

Archimedes was Athena's familiar and the original post owl. He was one of the few beings still able to cross the boundaries between Olympus and the mortal realm.

Ares held out his hands several inches apart and with a flash of light a circlet of hephaestian metal appeared. Crouching down so that Harry could see the circlet, he turned it this way and that.

"As you can see, it has been etched with runes of power." He pointed at a few of them. "These here in the front are Olympian Runes. The ones in the middle are Titan Runes." He twisted the circlet around and pointed again. "In the back are Primordial Runes."

Andros hissed, his black eyes swirling to blood red in his excitement. "Holy words," he whispered in awe.

Ares nodded in agreement.

"Divine runes of protection and defense."

Harry studied it carefully, a look of concentration on his young face. "How does it work?"

Ares smirked and reached out to set the circlet carefully on Harry's head. It expanded until it could slide down over the crown of his skull. Once it reached his brow, it shrunk itself to a perfect fit. The band of divine metal completely covered the fading remnants of the once cursed scar.

"When I first brought you home to the Citadel, you were injured from the battle that killed James and Lily Potter. I called for Hecate and Apollo to come here and help me tend your wound as it was infected with the dark magics of Tom Riddle. Between the three of us, we were able to remove the infection without destroying the memories or power it contained. However, while you were now freed of the infection of Riddle, Hecate warned that it would take decades for the wound in your mind and magic to fully heal and until then, you would be vulnerable to mental attacks."

Andros and Harry both nodded along as they were aware of all this. The infection, a bit a foul magic known to mortals as a horcrux, had been leeching magic and life from Harry to keep itself strong and viable.

Removing it from Harry's mind and magic had been a horrific ordeal as the three gods hadn't wanted to further damage the child and they also wanted to preserve any memory or knowledge contained within it.

It was the knowledge that they learned from the horcrux that led them to retrieving and cleansing Cernunnos' stone.

"This circlet will protect your mind, Harry. It will prevent anyone or anything from delving into your still healing mind or magic. Eventually, you will become strong enough and skilled enough to protect yourself. For now, however, the circlet will do so and announce your status for those with the eyes to see."

At that, Ares waved his hand over Harry's head. A wave of power that looked much like a shimmer of heat over the desert washed above the circlet and then sunk down into it. Just as he had done to the Celtic torque which held the stone, the circlet was now invisible to everyone that either didn't already know it was there or didn't have the power to see past Ares' illusion.

Smiling, Harry leaned forward and pressed an innocent kiss on Ares' cheek. "Thank you Ares."

Ares grinned and reached out to ruffle the unruly black hair that poked out around the circlet.

"You're welcome. However, after we return to the Citadel tonight, I expect you to spend some time with Archimedes to thank him for making the trip on your behalf."

Harry nodded seriously. The ancient owl might be one of the few beings capable of the trip from Olympus to the mortal realm, but it was dangerous and painful for him to do so. He would likely be recovering here in the Citadel for a week or more.

"I also expect you to perform a ritual of thanks to both Athena and Hephaestus."

Harry nodded again, this time grinning. "I'd be happy to and it's the least I could do for them after such a cool gift."

Ares nodded and stood up. "Very well. Finish getting ready and then we'll leave."

With that, he turned and stepped back into the shadows and watched as Andros helped Harry into Strife's cloak. Then the ancient baccae pulled out an amulet that Ares had made for his sire nearly a thousand years ago. It was enchanted to protect a baccae from the burning rays of the sun. Oh, direct sunlight would still create a painful burn, but it wouldn't kill a baccae wearing it. Once the amulet was in place, the armored baccae pulled a thick black woolen hooded cloak on. The sleeves were long enough to hide Andros' hands and the hood was deep enough that when pulled forward it completely covered his face.

Together they painted an eerie picture; the Holy child warrior and the dark looming specter of death at his right hand. Together they should stir up the self-impressed fools that populated the magical enclaves of Britannia…if those idiots were actually smart enough to understand what was about to be unloosed in their midst. Chuckling at his fanciful thoughts, Ares turned and stepped out of the shadows and into his courtyard where the Hogwarts post owl awaited.

He reached out a hand and ran a gentle finger along the chest feathers of the bird.

"Are you well rested from your exertions yesterday?"

The owl hooted and rustled its wings.

"Good. We'll be leaving for England soon. Once we're in London, you can take Harry's acceptance letter to your master."

The owl bobbed its head in acknowledgment even as Harry and Andros stepped out into the courtyard. Ares held out both arms as they walked over and Harry took one hand as Andros took the other.

"Come, you can ride on my shoulder, little one," the baccae whispered to the owl. It hooted and leapt from the perch only to flutter onto the thin shoulder under the thick wool cloak.

Clouds of pure darkness rolled across the dirt floor of the courtyard from nowhere to gather around their legs. Then the darkness boiled up their bodies and blocked them from sight. Blinding light flashed at the center of the darkness and blood red sparks of pure energy rained down. When the shadows faded, they were gone.

* * *

A rolling cloud of dark magic made manifest boiled out of a shadow filled alley to send the denizens of Nocturne Alley scurrying for cover to hide behind. The temperature dropped nearly twenty degrees in an instant and frost flowered on the shop windows as everyone's breath misted in the chill air. Someone wailed and ran blindly away, terrified that Dementors were arriving.

It was, instead, beings much more dangerous.

A flash of light and a shower of red sparkles heralded their arrival and then Ares stepped out of the cloud of dark magic with Harry and Andros in tow. The dark magic cloud faded away into nothingness slowly and the denizens of this evil place cowered in abasement and fear of the powerful Lord that graced them with his presence.

They watched as the tall being wrapped completely from sight took the owl from his shoulder and allowed the child to tie a letter to its leg before it was released to complete its task.

"Where to first?"

Ares looked down at Harry and smiled softly, before cutting a cold gaze out upon the rest of the Alley. Hags, werewolves, and dark wizards ducked down to avoid his eyes.

"Gringotts."

Harry's eyes lit up with excitement.

"The Bank? Cool. I've never actually met a goblin before."

Andros snorted softly. "I have. Goblins taste horrible."

Ares laughed loudly and shook his head. "What in the world made you try to eat a goblin?"

Andros shrugged. "Curiosity." Then he rolled his eyes sheepishly. "And hunger."

Harry, unfazed by the idea of Andros eating a sentient being turned a sympathetic eye on the baccae. "Did it give you indigestion?"

"Yes, actually."

That was just too much for the hag that was closest to them. With a shrieking wail of fright, she keeled over in a dead faint. The three turned their heads to look at her body sprawled across the ground, shrugged, and began to make their way to the entrance to Diagon Alley and the Bank that was located there.

People melted out of their path as Ares led them through the gloom of Nocturne Alley and into the bright sunshine of Diagon. The eyes of the people here watched them as well, but it was with a bit more curiosity and less wariness. Ares was well aware of the image they projected. While the darklings of Nocturne had seen him as powerful Dark Lord stepping out of the shadows, these light witches and wizards simply saw a wealthy foreign wizard and his heir being attended by a family retainer.

It was both amusing and sad how far the magicals had fallen that they could no longer even recognize the divine when it walked amongst them.

They walked into Gringotts with Harry bracketed between Ares and Andros. The boy stood ramrod straight and faced directly ahead of him even as his green eyes roamed here and there in an attempt to see everything. Andros reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder to keep him near even as Ares stepped up to the counter and spoke to the goblin.

"I need three purses with a hundred galleons each." Ares pushed a golden key across the counter. "From this vault."

The goblin picked up the key and let its magic wash over the object, scanning it and learning its secrets. Then, the beings' eyes widened in surprise for a brief second before it bowed its head low.

"As you command, Lord Ares."

The goblin then jumped down from its stool and dashed out of the main hall of the Bank and into the back rooms. A few other customers gazed at him, confused over why he'd been given such preferential service.

It wasn't very long before the goblin rushed back to his station. With another low bow, he handed over three black velvet bags to Ares followed by the golden key. Ares nodded in acknowledgement of the service and tucked the key and one of the bags away under his own armored vest. Then he turned and tossed one at Andros and one at Harry. They both caught the bags of jingling coins and tucked them away on their person. Then Ares led the way out of the Bank and back into the sunshine.

"Andros, take Harry to the clothier and purchase the uniforms he'll need as well as clothing for both casual and formal settings. I'll head over to the luggage shop and see about finding him a trunk to store his possessions."

Andros bowed his head slightly even as he reached out a hand for Harry, "Of course, my Lord."

Ares watched the two wander off into the crowd and then turned to the luggage shop. He stepped into the interior and bit back a sigh. Even after millennia of being trapped in the mortal realm, he was still not a fan of mortal craftsmanship. Even with magic at their disposal, mortals had a limited ability to mold the world to their whims and it showed in their philosophies as well as their arts and crafts.

Not hoping for much, Ares decided to purchase the best of the proprietor's wares and then improve it himself. Gazing over the stock, Ares eyes finally settled on a mahogany trunk sheathed in dragon scale that radiated primitive dimensional magics. Gesturing the clerk over, he pointed it out to the man.

"Tell me about that one."

The clerk might not have realized who or what Ares was, but he did recognize wealth and power, so he gushed and fawned while Ares stood there frowning. The trunk was actually five trunks in one, with each of the five locks opening unto its own dimensional space. Each of the five internal spaces could be customized to safely and efficiently carry a variety of objects. It was currently set up with three of the spaces set as simple storage trunks, and with the remaining two spaces set as a wardrobe and a set of bookshelves.

Ares considered it. He could very easily set the three blank trunk spaces up to be a potions cabinet, an armory for Harry's armor and weapons, and a cabinet for various magical artifacts and tools.

"It'll do."

The clerk cut off his words mid-stream and blinked in confusion as he watched Ares turn and stride up to the counter. Then he seemed to come back to himself, grabbed the trunk and hurried after him.

Ares ignored the babble of the clerk thanking him for his purchase. He simply paid the fee and strode out of the shop with the trunk floating obediently behind him. He didn't bother to move out of anyone's way, nor did he pay any attention to those that had to duck out of the path of the trunk. He simply headed directly to the clothier and walked inside.

Andros was walking amongst the racks of clothing with a seamstress trailing behind taking notes as he pointed out various styles and ordered a copy in a certain color and fabric. As obedient as he was to Ares and as gentle to Harry, the ancient baccae never hesitated to intimidate and order about mortals as if they were beneath his notice. And in a very real way, they were.

Harry, on the other hand, was standing on a pedestal next to a slim blonde child that seemed to be the same age as him. Both of them were draped in swathes of black fabric that a seamstress was pinning up in places to ensure a proper fit. The blonde was droning on in a nasal tone about his magical broom and bemoaning the fact that he must leave it at his manor house when the time to go to Hogwarts rolled around.

Harry spotted Ares and tilted his head subtly towards the blonde and then crossed his eyes. Ares snorted in amusement and captured the attention of everyone in the shop. A seamstress scuttled over, but he shooed her away and sauntered over to Andros.

"Well?"

Andros tipped his head down.

"We are almost finished, my Lord. The seamstresses assure me that all of Harry's school uniforms will be ready to be picked up in several hours. The additional items will be ready within three days."

Ares frowned and then sighed. Working with mortals always led to limitations. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.

"Fine. Make arrangements to pick them up personally as I doubt they have an owl capable of the trip. I'll provide you with a roundtrip portkey myself."

Andros bowed his head in acknowledgment even as Ares turned and walked over to Harry.

"Well…what do you think of the uniforms?"

Harry grimaced and looked down at the length of material draping his body.

"Tacky, unwieldy, and bereft of any defensive capabilities. I tried to pick a different cut of robe, the best of a poor lot, but I was informed that was a style reserved for Aurors and not Hogwarts students." Harry sighed. "I much prefer my armor."

Ares smirked, "Of course you do. I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

The blonde child merely looked confused, but the seamstress struggled to hide a frown of disapproval. Harry must have noticed because he looked down at her silently, one eyebrow raised up as if to dare her to comment.

Then Andros glided up to them and stood just behind Ares, patiently waiting. They watched silently as the seamstress finished pinning up Harry's robes.

"Well, that's it for you child. I'll have your set done in about three hours if you wish to return for them today."

And with that, she swished her wand and the robe flew up and off of Harry. "Thank the gods for small mercies," Harry muttered even as he pulled down his linen blouse. Andros stepped around Ares and helped Harry get back into his leather armored jerkin while Ares strode over to the counter to pay for the clothing.

A blonde woman wearing a huge dress layered with nearly a thousand feet of ruffled lace glided into the shop. She was coldly beautiful despite the mild sneer on her face. A seamstress hurried over to her only to be ignored as she swept past the girl on her way to the blonde child. The woman turned her sneer on Harry and Andros only to be brought up short and gasp slightly when she caught a glimpse of burning red eyes under the hood of his cloak.

Then Andros and Harry marched past her without a word and followed Ares as he led the way out of the shop, the trunk still floating obediently behind.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**The Hogwart's Express**

_Chapter Two_

* * *

Somehow, word had spread amongst the magical population that Harry Potter had accepted his invitation to Hogwarts and as such, the crowd at Platform 9 and ¾ was larger than normal. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the boy hero that had defeated You-Know-Who as an infant.

Rumors abounded that he had visited Diagon Alley in secret. Some claimed to have seen him shopping in the presence of a powerful and wealthy foreign Lord with a servant in tow. Others of a less respectable reputation claim to have seen him come boiling up out of the depths of Hell with the Devil himself to rule this world as his own. Few if any believed the fear filled ranting of the frantic hag that sold mushrooms, magical fungi, and other unsavory things from a corner cart in Nocturne Alley though.

So it was that the platform was crowded, not only with students and parents, but also with reporters and looky-loos all craning their necks this way and that to spy some glimpse of the boy. It was those on the edges of the crowd furthest from the hidden entrance to Platform 9 and ¾ that noticed it first.

The wild baying of hounds.

The sound, while still far off, sent a chilling shiver down their spines as they reacted unconsciously as all mortals always had. The temperature dropped rapidly and frost blossomed along glass and metal even as everyone's breath began to fog. Mist and shadow rolled along the ground, chilling skin and shrinking courage as it began to coalesce at the back of the platform. Unconsciously, people began to shift away from it and into the now wan sunlight.

The howl of a hound pierced the air and all heads turned to look so that all attention was focused on the boiling black clouds growing in strength and size.

"Oh Merlin…" one voice in the crowd whimpered in fear.

Then the sounds of jingling metal, creaking leather and the whomp-click of clawed paw-pads hitting the ground were discernible. Glances were exchanged and the crowds backed away even further. A Daily Prophet photographer readied his camera.

A flash of brilliant light dazzled the eyes and a cascade of red sparkles of pure magic sizzled from nowhere and then out of the rolling cloud of blackness a black and silver chariot pulled by twin giant hounds appeared. In the chariot was a tall dark haired man in leather armor, a small boy and another tall man wrapped from head to toe in a black cloak.

A camera bulb flashed once, twice, and then again.

"The Grim!"

A hysterical witch's voice screeched in tones of sheer terror.

"Death has come for us all!"

The crowd as one heaved in a huge breath and most there suddenly realized that the two hounds pulling the chariot that just arrived were indeed Grims, those dread omens of death and destruction. Nearly as one, they all turned and stampeded out of the platform in a panic.

The man in armor who had driven the chariot watched the crowd flee for a brief moment and then tossed back his head and laughed. It was a deep, rich, and dark sound of amusement tinged with mild scorn.

The boy smirked for a moment before looking up at the man.

"That wasn't very encouraging, was it?"

The man shook his head and grinned wildly down at the boy before shrugging with a feline sort of careless grace.

"Mortals."

He waved a hand at the nearly empty platform and those few who were still there, yet cowering from them and hiding their eyes away from sight of the two big beasts harnessed to the chariot.

"They can't recognize me and who I am, yet they can recognize the dogs and remember bits of their legend." He shook his head and snorted. "I can never understand why some things stick in their collective memory and other things fade. There's no real rhyme or reason for it."

The man in the cloak bowed his head slightly and said, "Grims are frightening beasts, Master. The mortals might not remember that they were bred from your original Dogs of War, but they do know the power they hold. They remember Grims herald death, destruction, and war…even if they don't realize that this is true only because the Grims are yours to command."

The man's face turned thoughtful for a moment, but then he shrugged it off and dropped the reigns of his chariot into the open palm of the cloaked man and turned around. He took a step and then jumped out of the chariot and onto the platform.

"Come on, Harry. Let's get you on the Express."

He glanced with mild distaste at the bright scarlet steam engine slowly heating up for the trip to Scotland.

"Yes, Ares."

The boy turned and leapt out of the chariot, a big multi-locked trunk beside him obediently floating up into the air and trailing after him like a puppy. The man draped in the black cloak stayed in the chariot and held the reigns.

As they walked around the chariot and past the two Grims, Harry reached up to pat each of their heads and whisper quickly that he would see them again over break. Then he dashed off to catch up with Ares at the entrance to the Express. Ares gestured him up onto the first step and then turned him so that they could look each other in the face.

"Remember," Ares' voice was dark, rich, and seductive; like chocolate and aged bourbon, "You are headed into enemy territory. Never let down your guard. Even those that might seem your friend can turn on you or have motives you don't see. Learn everything you can about the magic these people use, the laws and traditions of their society and the people around you."

Harry nodded his head obediently, "Yes Ares."

But Ares' eyes were unfocused as he looked at something Harry could never truly learn to see. As Harry watched, Ares' eyes slowly bled to solid black and showed the reflected echo of War and Death rolling endlessly across a broken land. He watched as Ares' head tilted slightly to the side and his lips parted slightly so he could taste the air much like a snake or lizard would. Then Ares' eyes snapped into sharp focus and the visions of War faded returning the dark orbs to normal.

"War is coming to this land. I can feel it. The first skirmishes have already taken place and soon it will draw you in my Apprentice. Be wary."

The little hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end and he paled slightly.

"I will make you proud of me, Ares."

Ares' eyes softened slightly, "You already have."

Then the cold mask of aloof divinity returned and Ares stepped back. He glanced along the length of the Express.

"Pick an empty carriage. Do not ask to join others; instead let them come to you as supplicants."

Then he smirked.

"I will retrieve you on the Solstice."

Harry bowed in obeisance even as Ares spun on his heel and marched back to his chariot. He watched as the Lost Son of Olympus stepped into that ancient and priceless transport and took the reigns from Andros. Then with a snap and a whistle, the twin hounds dashed off, pulling their Master into another shadow and back to the Citadel in the Hidden Mountains of Greece.

* * *

Harry sat in an empty compartment near the back of the train with his new Olivander wand tucked securely in his right wrist bracer. He was also wearing his armored leather jerkin and Strife's cloak with all of its divine protections active. Added to that, his original metal and crystal wand was tucked down one boot and a heavy dagger was hidden in his left wrist bracer. And of course, he wore Cernunnos torque around his neck and the Olympian circlet upon his head.

His first visitors didn't arrive until the train was well on its way. Harry could only surmise that his arrival at Platform 9 and ¾ had frightened the children as badly as it had the adults. It would take a while for them to work up their courage, apparently.

His visitors slid the compartment door open and stared in for a moment. They were twin red haired boys with a younger redheaded boy sandwiched between them. The younger one looked more than a little scared.

"Hey mate."

"That was quite"

"some entrance you"

"made back there."

"Scared off the"

"masses, you did."

The twins looked at each other over the younger boy's head even as Harry smirked in mild amusement. They spoke silently to each other before they both nodded in unison. Then they turned back to him with identical blinding smiles.

"I'm Fred. He's George."

The other twin frowned with exaggeration.

"Wait. I thought I was Fred today?"

"No, no. I'm Fred. You're George."

"Oh."

Then he shrugged in agreement.

"Fine then. I'm George." He glanced slyly at his twin. "The smart one."

"Oi!" Then he grinned. "That makes me the pretty one."

They bowed slightly to Harry and chorused, "We're the Weasley twins!"

Then they pushed the younger boy forward slightly so that he was actually in the carriage.

"And this is"

"our baby brother"

"Ronniekins!"

They tried to ruffle his red hair, but the boy slapped their hands away while growling "Geroff!" Then he turned to Harry with a pained expression on his freckled face and said, "Don't listen to them. My name's Ron. Ron Weasley."

Harry nodded slightly and his smirk faded a bit.

"Harry Potter."

All three boys' eyes went wide at that.

"Really?" Ron's were the widest. "Do you have the, you know?" He reached up and gestured to his own forehead.

Harry just raised up an eyebrow and didn't answer. He didn't have to though as one of the twins lightly smacked Ron in the back of the head while the other screeched in falsetto, "Manners!"

Ron smacked back and grimaced. "Stop it you two. Besides, you don't sound anything like Mum."

The twins laughed and then turned back to Harry.

"Well, it was lovely"

"meeting you Harry."

"But we have to"

"find our mate, Lee."

They grinned wickedly and said in unison, "He's got a new pet tarantula."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and gave a brief wave as they turned and dashed off down the corridor. Then he turned his attention to Ron. They were of an age, although Ron was wearing worn jeans with a fraying hem under a robe that had faded from black to a dark gray.

Ron stood there and fidgeted a moment, his mouth opened to say something. Then it snapped shut and he looked pained and embarrassed. Maybe if Harry had been obviously down trodden in battered glasses taped back together and wearing torn and dirty rags he'd have been able to gather his courage to sit down and chat. But that wasn't to be. Instead, he was faced with the legendary Boy-Who-Lived sitting there in finely crafted and obviously expensive warrior garb with a calm if amused expression on his face. His courage and confidence fled him.

"Well, uh…. It was, um, nice to meet you Harry. I uh, well, I should go catch up with my brothers. I'll, um…I'll see you at Hogwarts, yeah?"

Harry nodded.

"It was nice to meet you as well. Perhaps we will have some classes together."

Ron blinked at him and nodded shakily. Then without another word, he turned and fled. Harry chuckled.

His next visitor was the blonde boy he'd met at the clothier in Diagon Alley. He slid the door to the carriage open to stand there framed by two larger hulking boys standing just slightly behind him. The expression on his face was one of arrogance and boredom.

"I'd heard that Harry Potter is on the train." He sneered lightly and gazed Harry up and down. "Is that true?"

Harry smirked and tried to decide if he was amused at the airs the boy was putting on or if he was offended at the implied slight.

"I suppose it must be since I am Harry Potter," he drawled in imitation of Ares' dark tones.

The blonde looked startled for an instant and then puffed up a bit.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He simply shifted to give a pointed glance at the two boys behind him. Draco huffed slightly but obligingly pointed behind him.

"That's Crabbe. And that's Goyle."

Harry nodded acknowledgment to all three and then turned his attention to Malfoy. The boy posed with a haughty expression on his face before speaking in a self-important tone of voice.

"Now that you're back from…uh, wherever you were, there're some things you should know. Not all wizarding families are equal here. Some are," he buffed his nails on his chest and smirked, "better than others. I can help you with that."

Then he held out his hand to shake.

Harry looked at it for a moment, then reached out and grabbed his hand. After one pump of their hands, Harry pulled Draco towards him. Yanked off balance, Draco was forced to lean over so that Harry could look him in the face.

"Well, Malfoy. I'm not currently looking for someone to recruit followers for me just yet. However, if I do, I'll keep your application for the position in mind."

Then he let go of the other boy's hand. Draco had to brace himself on the bench to keep from falling and then hastily stood up and backed up a step. He seemed to sputter in shock for a long moment and then drew himself up haughtily.

"I don't think you understand, Potter. I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm nobody's servant!"

Harry thought about Ares, alone in his Citadel. Forcibly separated from his family, his home, and his purpose by the Twilight. He thought of Morrigan trapped in the Land of the Forever Young and unable to directly aid her chosen people.

He was suddenly tired of bantering with the pompous and ignorant child before him. He slumped slightly into his seat and lifted a hand to shoo the blonde and his bodyguards out. He turned slightly haunted eyes the color of the killing curse at them.

"Run along Malfoy. Until you are capable of realizing that we are ALL servants of Fate and Destiny, you are just wasting my time."

Malfoy's eyes bugged out slightly and his jaw dropped. It was obvious that no one had ever spoken to him like that before. Then he puffed up in indignation, twin spots of pale color on his cheeks.

"Wait till my father hears about this!"

Harry rolled his eyes as Draco turned on his heel and stomped away between the two other boys. The one closest to Harry gave him a slightly embarrassed look and shrugged lightly before they turned to follow.

The next visitor was the lady pushing the Snack Trolley. Harry stood up and walked to the door of his compartment to look over her wares and grabbed up a licorice wand and a chocolate frog. Then he paused for a moment considering.

He could remember plenty of times over the years that he had watched Ares reward a servant or two with some bauble or token. He'd also been present countless times that Andros had paid some craftsman or merchant for services or items. Now, he was on his way to a strange castle filled with foreign children that had heard about him even if they didn't know him. Some would set themselves as his enemies while others would try to work their way into his service and good graces.

Before him he was looking at a treasure trove of bribes and rewards in a currency that children spoke; sweets. He just had to be careful as to how he presented them and the reasons for handing them out. Temptation and reward all in one, he could earn a reputation for generosity if he did this right.

Smiling at the woman, he bought dozens of chocolate frogs, licorice wands, cauldron cakes, pumpkin pastries, bubble gum, and rock candy. The woman looked a bit startled, but he had the money for it so she willingly sold it to him. With a nod, she was off and Harry carefully packed his treats away in his trunk.

Sitting back down Harry turned his head and watched the countryside whoosh past him as he considered things. It would be nice, he supposed, if he could just be a normal child. He could make friends just for the sake of liking them, learn magic just for the enjoyment of knowing things, and fashion himself a quiet life somewhere idyllic.

That was not to be however. A madman had stolen the secrets of the gods and twisted them to suit his own purpose, desperate to elevate himself to godhood. In his wake lay destroyed lives and warped destinies. He was an abomination on all levels of existence and even Magic herself wanted him destroyed.

The Norns had chosen a child descended from the blood of Morrigan to face the madman and bring him low. When the child fulfilled his destiny as the Champion of Morrigan, he would be elevated to godhood and married to Ares as his Consort.

Harry was that child.

To be honest, it scared him if he thought about it too closely. Instead, he tried to focus on completing one step at a time; to break his destiny into small chunks that were easier to manage. Right now, the step he was working on was getting to Hogwarts and forging his place among his peers and age-mates. That meant allies and minions; not friends. Hence the candies for bribes and rewards. Still, it would be nice to have someone to talk to that was just there for the enjoyment of their company and not for what they could do to aid him on his quest.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the compartment door sliding open once again. He turned his head to look and saw two children; a boy with a sheepish and shy grin under worried eyes as well as a thin girl with wild and frizzy hair.

"Have you, by any chance," the girl began, "seen a toad?"

Harry blinked in mild surprise.

"Pardon?"

The boy grimaced even as the girl took in a deep breath. "A toad. We're looking for Neville's toad as he's lost it."

The boy blushed and Harry raised an eyebrow wondering how in the world one managed to lose a toad. Still, as odd as this all was, perhaps a sign of his benevolence would be helpful to his cause. Slowly, he slid his Olivander wand out of his holster on his bracer.

"A toad, huh…" Harry shook his head slightly before grinning. "Is it a living pet? Future potion ingredients? What?"

The girl crinkled up her nose and opened her mouth again to speak, but the boy stumbled forward a step and babbled.

"Trevor's a pet. Well, a familiar. Mine." He blushed brightly and shrunk back a bit, "Er…I mean, he's my familiar. My uncle Algie got him for me. But he likes to escape, you see? I'm afraid I won't find him again or maybe someone else will find him and I won't get him back."

"Ah."

Harry raised his wand and considered the situation. He could summon things that were small and light, like the mice he captured to feed post owls. He could probably do a toad as well. He didn't imagine that a toad would be too much bigger than a mouse.

"Trevor, is it?"

The boy nodded, and Harry made a shooing gesture at them. "Step away from the open door for a moment, please."

The girl's eyebrows arched up in interest. "Oh? Are you going to do some magic, then? Well, let's see it."

Harry shot her a quelling look, but didn't bother to answer. Instead he pointed his wand out the door and carefully waved it so the tip made a small triangular shape in the air to symbolize the letter Delta and intoned, "Ακρόαση Trevor the toad."

Harry nodded once and then calmly slid his wand back into its sheath in his wrist bracer. Once it was secure, he looked up into the boy's confused face and said, "You're welcome."

The boy looked even more confused, "Er….um, I mean…"

The girl wasn't nearly as tongue-tied. With a derisive snort, she glared down her nose at him. "Well, that wasn't very good magic, was it. In fact, I'd say nothing happened at all."

Then, lifting her nose into the air, she said, "Come on Neville, we've wasted enough time here with this boy. We still have to find Trevor." And then she spun on her heel and managed only one step before she was hit in the face with the toad slowly floating into the compartment from the corridor.

"Eeeee!"

The girl barely had time to flail about when the boy cried out in joy, "Trevor!" and snatched the toad out of the air. He cradled it gently in his hands and smiled widely at Harry. "Thanks!"

Harry nodded at him once in acknowledgment and then turned a slightly amused look on the girl. One eyebrow rose up in silent challenge.

For a brief moment, he thought the girl would snap at him for making a fool of her. Her face pinked up and her eyes narrowed in irritation, but then suddenly her anger melted away and her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"How did you do that? What was that spell? I've read all our books in order to prepare, but I've never heard of that spell."

He could only blink at the sudden change in her demeanor as well as the quick barrage of questions.

Then she flushed again and said, "Sorry, um…I'm Granger…Hermione Granger. And this," she gestured to the boy, "is Neville Longbottom."

Then she sat down across from him uninvited and pulled Neville down beside her. Harry grinned at her audacity and fire.

"Pleasure to meet you, Granger." He nodded at the boy, "Longbottom." Then he grinned even wider. "I'm Harry Potter."

Neville went positively pale and shrank back away from him, but Hermione leaned forward to study him as one might study a bug pinned to a board.

"Are you really? Well, I read all about you, of course. There's an article all about you in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

Harry blinked and then snorted.

"Did you? I missed that one." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'll have to read it. I wonder how badly they stuffed it up."

Now Hermione was pulling back in shock, "What?!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Please, Granger…I've read several different articles and books about that night. None of them can manage to even get most of the basic facts right and their speculations are more than a little ridiculous. It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic."

She looked aghast.

"But they're books!"

Harry snorted again.

"Books written by idiots, no doubt."

Hermione's face pinked up, her eyes narrowed in irritation and she opened her mouth; to berate him most likely. Harry wasn't really in the mood to argue with someone and so cut her off before she could get some steam behind her.

"About your questions, though…it was a summoning spell."

She blinked, thrown off track. "Wha…?"

Harry grinned and gestured vaguely in the direction of the door.

"The spell I used to find and retrieve Longbottom's toad. It was a summoning spell." He shrugged lightly, "There are others like it. Some are stronger, some are faster. That's the only one I'm able to cast, however. I like that one though, mostly because it's slow and steady. That means I can summon living things without them getting hurt."

Then the Longbottom boy seemed to pull himself together enough to ask a question. Apparently he'd found his courage seeing as Harry hadn't smote Hermione yet.

"Er…that wasn't English. Or Latin." He blushed heavily. "I mean, it wasn't something I recognized."

Harry chuckled lightly and shook his head. "No. It was Greek."

Hermione frowned and shared a look of confusion with Neville. Then she turned her head to look back at Harry.

"How could you cast the spell without speaking it in English or Latin?"

Harry blinked. What an odd question…it was a perfect example of unthinking arrogance.

"Because it was a Grecian spell?" At their blank looks of incomprehension, he explained. "Magic isn't bound to only a few languages. Magic can be cast in all languages. And nearly all people who develop spells do so in their own native language. The Master of Charms that invented the spell I used just happened to have been Greek."

He watched as something like understanding began to trickle into their heads. Then suddenly a soft tone echoed up and down the corridor. A look of frantic shock growing on her face, Hermione hopped up out of her seat and dragged Neville with her.

"Oh!" She glanced up at the ceiling quickly before turning an excited gaze at Harry. "I read about that alarm in Hogwarts: A History! It means there's only fifteen minutes left until we reach the station."

Then Hermione's eyes slid down his body from his face and frowned as she took in his linen blouse under the heavy leather armored vest. Then her eyes shifted over to the cloak he wore and noted its fine and archaic lines. Her lips frowned slightly, but her eyes swam in confusion. Even a young girl raised in the modern muggle world couldn't help but notice he was dressed in the manor of an old-world noble of the warrior class. She just couldn't fathom why.

"Er…you might want to take the time to get changed into your uniform." Hermione unconsciously reached down to smooth out her own Hogwarts issued grey skirt and her expression turned prim. "After all, you don't want to get in trouble on your very first day there, do you?"

Harry fingered the cloak he wore and smiled ironically. It had once belonged to Strife, the God of Mischief and that long dead god would only encourage Harry finding or even creating trouble and havoc. Still, Hermione was right that he should change, as much as he didn't want to be bereft of the protection of his armor and the enchantments Strife himself had woven into this cloak.

Sighing, Harry stood up and shooed Hermione and Neville to the door of his compartment. "Yes, right…well, go on then. I have to change, so I'll see both of you later." He shooed them again, "Go on…"

Hermione scowled and then opened her mouth, likely to chastise him for dismissing her so abruptly. Neville, however, was used to the ways of noble purebloods and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the door. He held up the other hand briefly, displaying Trevor the toad.

"Thanks again. Er…we'll, uh…see you later."

Harry nodded once in acknowledgement and then flicked a hand at the door once they were through it. The door slid shut with a soft click and then he turned around and reached for his trunk with a grimace. He really didn't like the Hogwarts uniform at all.


End file.
